Saturday, October 09, 2010

Some weeks ago, I was working late, and so cycling home after the usually flurry of commuter traffic.

Coasting one of the downhill parts, doing in the 15-20mph range, I suddenly heard this strange whirring sound behind me -- and then, suddenly, a whole flotilla of sport cyclists.

Now, when they travel solo, going along in their spray-on advertising, nose on the tarmac, arse in conjunction with the planet Jupiter, they are just subjects of merry jest. When they travel in packs, it's different.

Six to eight pairs of them streamed past me, peddling like the clappers, leaving little to no clearance, doing only the absolute minimum to move out of their straight line and pass, nearly forcing me into the verge -- much more threatening and aggressive road use than any of the buses or farm vehicles I usually have to contend with.

Between their silly outfits and bad behaviour, the sort of thing that gives cyclists a bad name, and discourages cycling as a more relaxed form of transport.